


Remotely Plausible

by HoldmyFire



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoldmyFire/pseuds/HoldmyFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between two agents in a greasy spoon diner. Dialogue heavy, cuz that's how I write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remotely Plausible

“Agent Pendrell has crush on you.”

Scully scrunched her nose in disbelief as she stabbed a forkful of lettuce.

“How did you come by this information, Mulder? Did Pendrell pass you a note in gym class?”

“Who passes notes in gym class? You never passed a note in your life, have you Scully?”

“Hey I went to Catholic school. You don’t risk the wrath of the nuns, they’ll throw chalk at you for staring out the window.”

“Really?”

“In 3rd grade, Sister Cecile got me right between the eyes.”

“Today that would mean a lawsuit.”

“It wasn't pretty, but learned my state capitols.” She took a sip of water then continued, “You really think Pendrell likes me? He always seems so anxious and flustered.”

“Because he likes you.”

“Oh.” Scully said. Her eyes widening the same way they did when she looked a lab results or connected the dots of a case. This was news to her, a revelation. “Oh, yeah that makes sense.”

Mulder cocked his head making a realization of his own, “You honestly don't notice do you?”

“Notice what?”

“The way men look at you.”

“Well, when you’re a woman in a male dominated field you develop blinders to that sort of thing, or else you’d never get any work done. What’s your excuse?”

“My excuse for what?”

“Not noticing the way women look at you?”

“Oh I notice,” he said as he cracked his knuckles with a smirk. “I notice all the time.”

Scully was unimpressed. “You just don’t do anything about it.”

"What makes you so certain of that, Agent Scully?”

“I’ve seen your Pay-Per-View Bill.”

Mulder shrugged. “It’s like you said, I’d never get any work done. It is interesting that _you_ notice the way other women look at me.”

“I’m an FBI agent, Mulder. I’ve been trained to assess all situations for potential threats.”

“So you’re just watching my back?”

“Just like you watch mine.”

Mulder gave her a quick smile. “So you gonna ask out Pendrell? He seems like your type.”

“My type?”

“Sure, he’s smart, likes science, probably doesn’t mind being bossed around.”

“Oh so I’m bossy now, am I?”

“No…you’re just, you’re…the type of woman who…takes charge. Some men are into that.”

“You’re making me sound like a dominatrix.”

“I have a feeling Pendrell’s into that, too.”

Scully laughed. Her full, loud laugh that she rarely used when she was working. “Mulder! I have to work with him you know, I don’t need to be imagining—“

“What? Pendrell in a ball gag? Pendrell on his knees calling you mistress?”

Scully blushed, revealing a little more than she would have liked. She covered it by lifting her eyebrows and adopting her concerned voice. “Mulder, are you sure _you_ don't have a crush Agent Pendrell?”

“Ha. Ha.” Mulder took a bite of his burger. “Seriously Scully, what’s your type?”

“I don’t have a type.”

“Everybody has a type.”

“Serial killers have types. Ted Bundy had a type.”

“So you’re saying guys who only date blondes are serial killers?”

“The probably share similar pathologies. Narcissism, inflated sense of self worth, manipulative tendencies…”

“Point taken. But of the men you’ve dated, do they share any common factors?”

Scully paused, thinking. “Well, they were all intelligent. They tended to be older than me.” she admitted, slightly embarrassed. “And they were all…strategically convenient.”

“ _Strategically_ convenient?”

Curious, Mulder set his burger on his plate, giving Scully his full attention. He was going to pay for this. That was how it worked when their conversations veered into the personal, it was silently understood that every question he asked her, he would have to answer himself. It was only fair.

“If you’re sleeping with a professor, he doesn’t give you grief when you have to stay in and study,” Scully admitted candidly.

“Older men require less work.”

“Older men aren’t expecting you to mother them. Well, not when you’re 23. Now when you’re 32…”

“You’re everyone’s mother.” Mulder finished her sentence.

“Something like that.” Scully said, sounding sadder than she’d intended. Pushing her empty plate to the side, she leaned forward, ready to interrogate Mulder.

“What about you, Mulder, you have a type?”

“Sure. Twenties, skinny, long dark hair, parted in the middle…”

“You’re describing Ted Bundy’s victims. Or do I need to be contacting Behavioral Sciences?”

Mulder looked down, studying the lines on his hands. “I suppose it’s the same type as you: convenient. It’s like when I was 11 years old and I suddenly found myself with a girlfriend. Allison Mackelroy. She was the captain of the girls soccer team. A bruiser. Outweighed me by about ten pounds, all muscle.”

“And how did little Mulder woo this maiden fair?”

“He didn’t. I was sitting on the playground, reading a Conan the Barbarian comic, and she came up to me and barked “Mulder, you have a girlfriend?” I shook my head. Then she said: “You do now. Hold my hand.” And suddenly I had a girlfriend. If you want to find a consistent pattern in my relationships, there it is. I’m off in my own world, a woman tells me to buy her a drink, and suddenly I’m in a relationship.”

Mulder ruffled his own hair, he didn’t know why that sounded sad, but it did.

“Well that sounds easier than singles bars and pick up lines.” Scully said tenderly.

“But not as easy as a subscription to the Spice channel.” Mulder smirked, sadness pushed away.

“Maybe I should get a subscription to Playgirl.” Scully said as the waitress cleared their table.

“If I find any coupons in my monthly periodicals, they’re all yours.”

“Thanks Mulder, you’re a pal.”

Scully reached for the check but Mulder got it first.

“It’s my turn.”

“I got it. I’m paying forward the autopsies you have to do.”

“I don’t know whether to be grateful or scared,” she paused, then added, “Thank you, Mulder.”

He gave her a nod as he placed some cash under the ketchup bottle. “Don’t mention it.”

Scully stood, pulling her camel colored trench coat out of the booth. Mulder put his wallet back into his pocket.

“So I guess there’s no chance of you becoming Mrs. Agent Pendrell?”

“Come on, Mulder,” Scully flipped her hair and flashed a carefree smile. “You know you’re the only man for me.”

Mulder moved closer and helped Scully put on her coat. He leaned over her shoulder, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke:

“And you’re the only man for me.”

Scully chuckled, slapping Mulder on the chest as he moved beside her. Mulder pretended it hurt more than it did.

"Ouch! And such a strong man too!"

“So what’s the story with this autopsy you want me to do?”

“Well Scully, how familiar are you with bovine anatomy?”

“Jesus Mulder, you want me to autopsy a cow?”

“Three cows, actually.”

“And the local vet can’t do this because?”

“He was found dead among with the cows. All the cows have wounds consistent with alien cattle mutilation phenomena…”

Mulder continued speaking as he held the door open for Scully. When they stepped into parking lot, he pressed his hand to the small of her back and held it there until they reached the car.


End file.
